


Perfect arrangement

by madhatt



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Asexual Character, Asexuality, Masturbation, Sticky Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-18
Updated: 2015-04-18
Packaged: 2018-03-24 15:54:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3774604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madhatt/pseuds/madhatt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prowl enjoys some well deserved time alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Perfect arrangement

**Author's Note:**

> I really wanted to write this fic, but somewhere along the way I didn't feel it anymore. Still I did my best to finish it and decided to post it anyway. Hope at least one person's going to enjoy it.

“You have fun, hot stuff,” murmured Jazz and planted a soft kiss on Prowl's chevron, getting a content purr in return. “And comm. me when you are ready.”

“I will,” said Prowl and watched Jazz as the other mech left their shared berthroom, winking at him playfully before the door closed behind him. He was likely going to spend the next cycle reading the reports – Jazz saw the necessity of doing that, even enjoyed it to some extent, despite what most thought – and waiting for his partner to be ready for recharge.

It didn't happen daily, but often enough to become a routine. A routine they both enjoyed and were grateful for, each for their own reasons. After all it was a perfect arrangement - whenever Prowl felt stressed, and the strain of high command was getting to him despite all his best attempts to detach himself; or when hot current was simply running along his wires, making his whole body tremble with boiling need, Jazz let him have this time alone, with trained patience waiting for Prowl to soothe his wanting body.

Jazz couldn't help him with that. Some would say it was unfortunate, but it was exactly why Prowl cherished their relationship so – he neither wanted nor needed any help pleasuring himself. It was something that alienated him from the other mechs for the longest time. He couldn't with good conscience pursue a relationship, when he knew from the start that he wouldn't be able to satisfy the most basic urges of his partner-to-be.

That's exactly why he was, to put it mildly, reluctant to accept Jazz' advances when the other mech made his interest in Prowl very clear. And that's also why he was so greatly relieved, and actually almost ridiculously happy, when he realized Jazz was just like him. Looking back at those times, he wondered if he maybe should have expected it, but it was easy to think so after the fact. It just seemed so obvious now, as he knew everything there was to know about his partner; as he knew about the stress and distrust his duties put inside his processor. It simply had to result in the lack of interest in interfacing with others.

That of course didn't mean their relationship had been only limited to likeness of minds. They enjoyed their bodies too – whenever they were finally alone in their berthroom, without loud voices and curious optics following them, they were naturally pulled towards each other and happily explored their bodies with loving touches, that usually ended up with both mechs curling around each other in a cuddle full of warmth and affection.

But sometimes Prowl needed different kind of touches. Ones that only his own servos could give him. Just like he needed them now. And so he laid on his back and moved his legs slightly apart. Then he closed his eyes and relaxed. Despite what most mechs thought of him, it wasn't a hard thing to do, he found it rather easy to do with his partner close and all the problems of command left outside their quarters. That's why he didn't have to waste any time on calming himself. He simply let his hands wander. He caressed along the seams on his armor – his bumper first, taking time to touch his sensitive headlights, then down to his torso and finally hips. He knew the routine well by now and tonight wasn't in the mood for experimenting. He just wanted to feel good.

And so he was quick to move his fingers to the wires running up his inner thighs, tugging at them delicately. He sighed and spread his legs more. He then put his hand on his interface panel and rubbed. It was already pleasantly warm. During moments like this he found his processor wandering off, to some blank space where it didn't have to supply him with any images, just let him enjoy the pleasure – Prowl didn't need to fantasize about anyone, just focus on the gratifying touches. And he did just that.

He kept rubbing, occasionally moving his fingers to pinch the wires in the gaps of his armor. He felt himself slowly becoming wet – a normal response to a stimuli. He liked it. Even if he didn't understand how mechs would want to share that with anyone else, he still greatly enjoyed this pleasant warmth that so easily turned into hot waves rolling over his body. And he rolled with it, tensing and relaxing to the rhythm of pleasure. It wasn't long before the lubricant started gathering behind his panel. He still kept it closed, continuing to tease himself. He let it open only when he felt the moisture start to seep through the seams and smelled its heady scent. Right then the cover opened with a click, loud in the otherwise quiet room.

The cold air hitting his wet folds made him realize how sensitive they were now, hot and pulsing. His valve clenched at the feeling and he couldn't stop himself from sliding his finger between them, right into that moist heat. At first he simply kept it there – this way he felt the quivering of the opening against the digit. Then he moved it around, rubbing the valve lips and getting the lubricant everywhere.

Then he slid one finger inside and sighed. He couldn't deny how blissful it felt to move his finger slowly in and out of himself. There wasn't any stretching involved – many times before he put much bigger things inside himself – but still the light pressure on the sensitive nodes was exactly what he needed and wanted at the moment.

Prowl kept this languid pace for some time but then decided to move on. After all Jazz was waiting for him right in the next room. And so Prowl imagined something big stretching him and moaned at the mere thought of the pleasure that would bring. He put two tips of his fingers inside himself and stretched the rim. He whimpered – the opening was forcefully widened, almost to the point of pain, but at the same time he felt empty. It felt amazing. His valve was clenching on nothing, but he kept the opening wide, enjoying the coolness he felt on the nodes closest to the rim. He liked the feeling, but he could never stay like this longer than only a few clicks, needing something more physical to pleasure himself.

And so he withdrew his digits, ready to stuff himself full. Two fingers went in easily. He thrust them a couple of times, but wasn't patient enough and so quickly added two more. Now he finally felt blissfully stretched and full. He moaned. His other hand went unconsciously to his headlights. He caressed them in the same rhythm he moved the fingers inside his slick valve. He moved his digits in and out, at the same time grinding his palm against the anterior node. It felt swollen and so sensitive the fans under his hood had to cycle the hot air twice as fast. There was almost no friction – he got so wet he could feel the fluids drip down on the berth.

For a short moment he wished he had a fake spike to stretch him and reach deeper than his fingers could, but the thought disappeared quickly, when he ground his fingers against a particularly sensitive node on the upper wall of his valve. He rubbed his fingers against the spot, a simple gesture that caused his legs to shake and doorwings to tremble against the berth.

Soon he couldn't keep still. His fingers wriggled inside his valve as he moved them in and out, his hips thrust up so the fingers would reach deeper, and he was frantically biting his lipplates. Finally he couldn't take it anymore – he left his headlights and instead moved his hand to his swollen anterior node. He pinched it and rolled it between his two fingers. It felt too good.

He knew he was close – all the wires in his body tensed and his plating kept rattling, trying to cool his body. His valve was spasming around his fingers and producing copious amounts of lubricant. So he sped up his thrusts and kept rubbing his node. Finally the current running through his mechanisms got too high and he released all the accumulated energy with a loud moan and a full armor shudder.

For the longest moment he laid there, listening to his fans roar as they cooled his mechanisms. The valve was still clenching around his fingers and he smiled at the feeling of pleasure a minute wiggle of his digits send through his relaxed body.

Finally he moved. He pulled out his fingers, feeling the lubricant pour out. He looked at his glistening, wet digits and couldn't stop himself – he moved them up to his lips and sucked at them hungrily, licking off the lubricant. When he was done, he sat up and looked at the mess he had made. He was sitting in the pool of his own lubricants, that got smeared all over the berth. With a sigh he grasped the rag he had left under the berth earlier, and cleaned it the best he could.

He had to clean himself too. So he stood up and walked out of the berthroom, heading for their private wash rack.

“You've made a mess again?” The humor was obvious in Jazz' voice.

“I'll be right back.” He glanced at Jazz, casting him a quick smile and left the room to clean himself. There was no need to answer his partner's question, after all the evidence was smeared all over his inner thighs.

When he walked back into the berthroom, finally clean, Jazz was reclining on the berth. The other mech smirked at Prowl and patted the spot beside him. “Come 'ere.”

Prowl listened instantly. He laid down next to Jazz and purred contently when the other mech put his arms around him and pulled him closer to his body. The port on his arm was already opened and the cables were unreeled. Prowl reached for them and opening his own port, plugged them in. He sighed contently, as did Jazz, when their processors got connected. Feeling the pleasure of another beside him, _inside him,_ he had to focus extra hard to unreel his own cables and hand them over to Jazz. 

When the two-way connection was finally established, two mechs got comfortable and fell into recharge, feeling safe and happy together.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Now also in Chinese (thanks to 55Speechless) - http://cybertronsaga.com/bbs/read.php?tid-8753.html


End file.
